Just A Scratch
by 2trek
Summary: While exploring a planet, Dr. McCoy gets a scratch from an alien plant; however, it proves to be anything but just a scratch...
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek in any way, shape, or form...I just happily play with the characters :)_

_A/N: This story is based on two weeks crammed knowledge of Star Trek. I've been avidly watching TOS on Netflix, and reading various resources provided by the many, many Trekkie's out there on the World Wide Web. I hope that you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it. I will try updating frequently; however, between my school studies and an incurable ailment that rears its ugly head occasionally (I believe the medical term is "Writer's Block"), it might not be as often as I'd like to. Please encourage me with reviews and suggestions. I will gratefully accept both :)_

_Sincerely, _

_~2trek_

* * *

Captain Kirk, Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy pressed through the jungle-like shrubbery of the newly discovered planet Kirk had jokingly dubbed "Amazon". Kirk was leading the way, shoving aside branches and stamping down the tall grass that hindered their way. Spock followed, his tricorder whirring and whistling busily. McCoy, bringing up the rear of the trio, was not nearly as occupied as his companions. In fact, he was wishing he'd stayed on the _Enterprise_ in his office. He'd rather be going through medical records than trudging through the woods.

"What do you think, Bones?" Kirk called back. He was enjoying the lack of hostile natives the planet housed, though he wouldn't have minded a few pretty ones.

McCoy sighed. "It's nice."

"It's fascinating," Spock replied, compensating for McCoy's lack of enthusiasm, "The soil here is incredibly fertile for the environment."

"Fascinating, indeed," McCoy grumbled.

"What was that, doctor?" Spock asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Oh, nothing," McCoy said, "I was just agreeing with you."

Spock hummed doubtfully, but made no further remark.

"I don't think it's a bad place to have shore leave," Kirk commented, "the climate is absolutely perfect!"

"Perfect is not the word I would use to describe it, captain," Spock contradicted, "in fact, it is considerably cool."

"Of _course_ it is," McCoy breathed.

Kirk glanced briefly over his shoulder. "Well, somebody's in a good mood today?"

McCoy glowered. He hated being teased, especially when he was in a bad mood. Irritably, he shoved aside a plant Kirk had missed. What he didn't notice were the glass-sharp thorns protruding from its stem. Two caught his blue uniform sleeve, tearing the fabric and the skin underneath.

He hissed through his teeth sharply. "Oww..."

"Are you alright, doctor?" Spock inquired.

"Yeah, fine and dandy." McCoy pulled his arm away and twisted it so he could examine the damage. "Just a scratch."

However, it was anything but just a scratch.

* * *

"Doctor McCoy, I have-" Nurse Chapel paused mid-sentence and made a face. "What happened to your arm, doctor?"

"Oh, it's just a scratch. Nothing to worry about." McCoy took the test results she had been about to give him and started to go over them.

Chapel touched his arm gingerly. "Are you sure? It looks infected."

"What?" McCoy turned his arm to look at it. Even though the wound was barely more than half an inch long and about as shallow as a pinprick, all the way around was a deep and fiery red. "Hmm," McCoy sighed thoughtfully, "nothing an antibiotic can't solve."

"Maybe I should look at it for you, doctor," Chapel suggested.

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "I think I can handle it, nurse."

"Of course, doctor, but-"

"No more about it. We've got work to do, nurse." McCoy was feeling unusually irritated, and besides that, he hated being the patient.

"Yes, doctor."

McCoy caught her annoyed glance before she turned back to her duties. She might be under his command, but she could sometimes act like a mother with her "_fine, have it your wa_y" look.

He medicated his scratch quickly, covering it with a small bandage to keep it away from the prying eyes of Chapel, and then went on with his work, not giving it another thought.

At lunch, McCoy settled himself beside Spock and across from the captain. Kirk nodded at McCoy. "What happened to your arm?"

McCoy was just about sick to death of that question. "Nothing worth talking about. Just a scratch," he said after a moment of suppressed exasperation.

"Is that from the plant yesterday, doctor?" Spock inquired.

"Yes, Spock, it is," McCoy replied with obviously fake patience, "and I don't know why everyone keeps mentioning it."

"Maybe because it looks bad," Kirk commented, pointing with his fork.

"It doesn't look anything...it's just a-" he glanced down at his arm. It was entirely red, like a deep burn. He swallowed and looked up again. "Just a scratch," he finished lamely.

"I would say it is more than a scratch," Kirk stated. "Have you had anyone look at it?"

"I put antibiotic on it this morning. That should have killed any infection, or at least kept it from spreading." McCoy shrugged his shoulders, trying to keep nonchalant. "I'll have someone look at it when I get back to my office."

"That's a good idea," Kirk agreed. He grinned. "If there's anything we _don't_ need, it's a sick doctor."

McCoy made a face. "I'm probably just having an allergic reaction to whatever that plant was."

"An alien plant," Spock pointed out. He looked at Kirk. "Perhaps we should retrieve a sample of the specimen for testing, captain."

"Not a bad idea, Spock," Kirk said. "Why don't you, the good doctor, and Mr. Scott beam down and do that?"

"I don't even remember what it looked like," McCoy protested. In his opinion, he'd been down to the planet's surface one time too many.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I have an acute memory of the plant's appearance."

"Oh, really?" McCoy drawled, sitting back in his chair and staring at Spock doubtfully. "And how would that be?"

"Because I took certain precautions, as did the captain, not to touch the plant when we passed it. Unfortunately, you made no such effort," Spock said as smugly as his Vulcan temperament would allow.

"Why you-" McCoy sputtered, but with no comeback to offer, the sentence was left unfinished.

* * *

_A/N: Chapter Two coming soon..._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I would like to thank everyone for all the reviews and support! It really means a lot :) I hope that this chapter does justice to your expectations. _

* * *

"What do you think, _doctor_?" McCoy asked Chapel as she finished his checkup.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "_I _think you should have let me look at it earlier before it got this bad."

"It shouldn't have _gotten_ this bad," McCoy protested. "I put antibiotic on the thing as soon as you pointed it out. That should have stopped the infection. I just don't get it."

"The test results will be in soon," Chapel said, turning from the biobed to rearrange the instruments on the table, "however, in my opinion, that scratch of yours has more than just a simple infection."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The nurse glanced at him. "I don't really know, doctor. You'll just have the read the results to the test yourself. I am certain that you are not having an allergic reaction, and I am almost just as certain that it is more than an infection."

"And you can't explain why?"

Chapel shook her head. "I'm sorry, doctor. Maybe when you see the results, you'll be able understand what I am getting at." She frowned. "I just can't explian it."

McCoy sighed, and stood up, rubbing his arm absently. "I have to beam down to that planet again."

"You don't sound like you're looking forward to it," Chapel observed knowingly.

"I'm not," McCoy agreed irritably before leaving sickbay to go to the transportor room.

* * *

"We were down there for two hours," McCoy griped. "And not a trace of stupid plant you seem to remember so well."

"It is interesting," Spock said, a hint of confusion in his voice, "I was absolutely positive that the plant was rooted at that location."

"Well, I sure didn't seen anything," Scotty piped up, "not like ya discribed, Mr. Spock."

The landing party of three had just beamed up from the planet's surface. Though McCoy didn't want to admit it, he was worried that they hadn't found the plant that scratched him. His left arm was starting to ache, and his shoulder felt numb at the joint. In fact, he was having a difficult time using his arm at all.

He made no delay getting back to his office, where Nurse Chapel was waiting with the test results.

"Doctor," she said quietly, handing him the pad.

McCoy stared at it for several long moments, hoping unrealistically that what he was reading wasn't what he thought he was reading. He finally looked up when he heard Chapel shift uncomfortably. "According to this, there is a life form in my arm?"

"I don't know how, doctor, it seems impossible...but that's what the results say. Something is living, and growing, in your arm."

The doctor was at a loss. He didn't even know where to start with this new information. "I-I suppose we should-I should..." he paused, staring hard at the test results as though they would somehow give him the answer.

"May I suggest," Chapel interjected softly upon seeing the scarcely veiled look of fear on her commanding officer's face, "that we try to keep the lifeform from spreading to the rest of your body?"

"Yes...that's what we should do..." McCoy felt tired all of a sudden. Stress, he supposed. He looked up at Chapel. "Call the captain and Spock. Have them come down as soon as they can."

"Yes, doctor."

* * *

_A/N: I'm sorry for such a short update. I had an idea last night that I am dying to use; however, I have to lead up to it... next update coming soon! :) _

_(If you have any suggestions, please PM me!)_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I write lots of my own stories...95% of them Historical Fiction. So playing with Sci-Fi is like the total oppisite of what I'm used to. There are no hard facts. While that would seem like a freedom from the usual, it stresses me out, because I want accuracy. So if there is anyone more comfortable with this genre who has an idea for this story, I'd love to hear it :) _

_That said, here's chapter three! _

* * *

The dull ache in McCoy's arm was becoming worse, though he wondered if it wasn't just mental. After all, the idea of a life form growing in one's arm was incredibly disconcerting. And yet, he knew for certain his grip was becoming weaker, as though the control he had over his arm was diminishing.

Spock readily offered a solution to the life form's spreading - much to McCoy's unspoken relief. The procedure was mostly used on patients who had rare, old-earth diseases that spread through the body. The basic principle was to put a shield, such as the starships used, through the affected area. It was dangerous, as blood flow was cut off. A small attached device could compensate for this for a short time; however, if the problem wasn't solved in a 48 hour period, the shield needed to be removed or the limb...depending on which was less dangerous for the patient.

"The question is, though," Kirk said as they discussed the problem in McCoy's office, "will we be able to extract the creature before 48 hours is up?"

"Uncertain," Spock admitted.

McCoy sighed. He had his infected arm pressed against himself protectively. "I want to just get the procedure over with. We don't know what this..." he paused, because he hated to say it, "_creature _will do once it spreads."

"Do you have anyone onboard qualified to do it?" Kirk asked.

"Technically, no," McCoy said. He looked at Chapel, who was pretending to be working busily at her station. "But Nurse Chapel has assisted during two such procedures, according to her records."

The woman's head shot up, and she stared at the three men who were now staring at her expectantly. "Oh, I, uhm..."

"I am right in saying so, aren't I, nurse?" McCoy asked.

"Well, yes, doctor, but I-" Chapel swallowed nervously.

McCoy smiled encouragingly. "You'll do just fine. I can talk you through it, and you'll have no problems."

"But it's a very fine technique, doctor, placing the blood circulation unit."

"I trust your skills, Nurse Chapel."

The nurse hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Thank you, doctor. I will prepare for the procedure."

* * *

McCoy had made a point in his years as a doctor to avoid being the patient. However, when you are the CMO on an adventure fueled starship, it can be unavoidable. As McCoy lay on the operating table, staring at the ceiling, he wished more than ever that he had stayed home, on earth, where he belonged.

"If men were meant to fly, he'd have been born with wings," he muttered under his breath. He felt light headed from the effects of the painkiller in his system.

"What was that, doctor?" Chapel asked.

McCoy turned his eyes on her. "Nothing. Are you ready?"

"Yes, doctor."

Under normal conditions, that is, with an actual doctor doing the operation, the patient would be unconcious, unaware; however, since McCoy was having to direct Chapel, he had to stay awake.

To say he wasn't nervous would be a lie. In fact, if he wanted to be perfectly honest with himself, McCoy was terrified. Of course he trusted his nurse to do her absolute best, but that did not account for her inexperience. That fact aside, the operation was not painless, even with strong painkiller.

Fortunately, though, it was short.

The shield, working its way through skin, muscle and bone burned like nothing McCoy could remember. He winced and clenched his fists so tight he could feel his fingernails biting into his palm.

"Almost done, doctor," Nurse Chapel said, almost apologetically.

McCoy nodded. "Do you have the circulation unit ready?"

"Yes."

He felt the cold metal of the device touch his skin as Chapel carefully adjusted it to the proper position.

"Does it feel right, doctor?" she asked.

"Does it look right?" Directing her was harder than he had anticipated.

Chapel paused for a moment, and he felt the unit shift a fraction of an inch. "Yes, doctor."

"Then place it."

When he was in medical school, it was required to learn how to use the old-earth medical tools, such as needles. McCoy had recieved a few shots, and knew he did not like the feeling of a thin point sliding into his skin. But the circulation unit was much worse than a simple shot. Five needles at once pierced his arm painfully. McCoy hissed his displeasure.

"Done, doctor," Nurse Chapel sighed.

McCoy opened his eyes, realizing just now that he had closed them. "Good. You did well, Nurse Chapel."

"I just hope it works, doctor."

He looked over at her. "Me too."

* * *

"How do you feel, Bones?" Kirk asked, standing when McCoy and Nurse Chapel came out of the operating room.

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "As good as anyone would after having a shield put through them." He looked down at his poor arm, cradled in a sling. "I won't be able to move my arm, however, until that darned creature is removed."

"Do you have any ideas where to begin?" Kirk asked.

"We will have to run some tests to see where exactly the life form is growing and what it is infecting...which seems to be pretty much everything." McCoy sighed. "It would certainly help if we had a sample of that plant."

Kirk nodded. "Spock took another landing party down for another search."

Still woozy from the pain medication, McCoy swayed. Chapel caught his good arm and helped him sit down at his desk. McCoy blinked tiredly. The stress and pain were really getting to him...and the guilt, he realized suddenly.

"I'm sorry, Jim," he said, "I'm really putting a kink in our schedule, aren't I?"

"No more than others have before you," Kirk said with a smile. "You're not the first one to be affected by alien life."

"Maybe not," McCoy agreed, but he frowned, "but if I had been paying attention and using my tricorder, none of this would have happened in the first place."

Kirk shrugged. "What's done is done. Nothing we can do about it now except fix it."

"Yeah." McCoy nodded. He felt so tired.

"I think Dr. McCoy should rest for a little while," Nurse Chapel said. "The procedure takes a lot of energy, especially when the patient is awake during it."

McCoy humphed. "I'm fine."

"I think your nurse is right, Bones," Kirk said, putting a hand on McCoy's good shoulder. "You get some rest, and that's an order."

"Hey," McCoy said, "I'm the one who gives the prescriptions."

"And as acting doctor, I prescribe a few hours sleep," Chapel said firmly. Her confidence was finding its way back.

McCoy glared at his nurse and captain in turn. "Fine. But _only_ for a few hours."

* * *

_A/N: Next chapter coming soon! Thanks everyone for your reviews and support :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you so much, mctbones, for your suggestion! It was actually very, very helpful_ :) _And a great big thank you, also, to everyone for all your reviews and support. It means a lot and so far, I feel like I'm updating pretty regularly. I owe that directly to you guys_ :D _Thank you!_

* * *

The inability to use his left arm proved to be more bothersome than McCoy had earlier imagined. It was amazing the countless jobs the limb preformed on a regular basis without his knowledge. Unfortunately, the lab technicians had little use for a one armed man and respectfully asked that he keep out of the way.

"Don't overwork yourself, Doctor McCoy," they said pleasantly, escorting him to the door.

Now, not only did he feel guilty for the work and delay he was causing, but he also felt useless, which was more daunting than he cared to admit.

And so he let them poke and prod his arm, taking samples and conducting tests, all the while feeling like an oversized lab rat. Of course, saying he _let_ them is a little too gracious to the doctor's temperament. He did his share of muttering and humphing, enough so to make everyone in proximity of him irritable. Uselessness did not suit him at all.

At supper, McCoy was sitting by himself, his dead arm propped up on the table. He just stared at it, thinking dull, bored thoughts. If there was one thing they had found out, it was that the life form was immaterial...taking over his tissue and cells for its own form. That then begged the question of how to get it out. Presently, everyone was at a loss.

"How're you feeling, Bones?"

McCoy startled and looked up to see the captain taking a seat across from him. McCoy shrugged and sighed. "No better, no worse." He smiled sadly. "I suppose that's a good thing, huh?"

"Depends." Kirk tilted his head. "Any developments on how to get rid of the life form?"

"No. It's become part of me. I've been wracking my brain over it all day, but...nothing. I can think of absolutely nothing." His fingers started drumming the table.

Kirk looked at them thoughtfully. "I thought you couldn't move that arm...at all."

"I can't, I-" McCoy stopped cold when he saw his fingers moving of their own accord. "I'm not doing that, Jim."

"It's the creature?" Kirk asked in a hoarse whisper, as if the lifeform could hear him.

McCoy nodded dumbly, watching with queer fascination as his fist clenched and then opened, spreading his fingers wide and closing them again.

"It's like," McCoy said quietly, "whatever it is, is testing its abilities."

"We'd better get you down to sickbay," Kirk said, standing up and reaching out to take McCoy's other arm.

McCoy shrugged him off with a forced smile. "It's just an arm, Jim, I can still walk." He stood as he spoke, as if to prove it.

"I know, but..." Kirk faltered, then he sighed. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

The two of them walked to Sickbay in silence, McCoy all too aware that his left hand was preforming its own tasks, clutching and stretching too deliberately for comfort. It made the pit of his stomach knot.

* * *

"Fascinating."

McCoy glowered. "Really, Spock. That's all you have to say about it?"

The Vulcan regarded the doctor with a deadpan stare. "To be perfectly frank, doctor, yes."

"The question is, what do we do about it?" Kirk was leaning against McCoy's desk, arms crossed.

"Continue our efforts to extract creature," Spock said, "As of yet, I do not see the creature's ability to use the doctor's hand a threat."

"Be that as it may," McCoy said irritably, because he hated to say it, "I find the entire thing unnerving."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "We might try sedating the creature if it troubles you that much."

"Well, I'd like to see your reaction to a creature taking posession of one of your appendages," McCoy grumbled.

"May I remind you, doctor, that I have had such an experience with the exception that it was my entire body that which the creature possessed."

McCoy knew when he was beat, even if he didn't like it. "Ah, hum," he acknowledged after a moment's hesitation.

After having Nurse Chapel adminster a small dose of sedative to his arm, his hand slowly stopped moving, much to McCoy's relief.

* * *

_A/N: Next chapter coming soon..._


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Here's a short update :)_

* * *

McCoy woke up feeling sore. Glancing around groggily, he realized he'd fallen asleep at his desk in his office. It had been part of a compromise he'd made with Chapel. He would rest if he could stay in his office.

It took him a moment to realize what had woken him up. It was his arm, hovering beside him.

He stared at it, fascinated. Now, the creature didn't just have control of his hand, but his entire arm. He guessed that was to be expected, considering; however, it made his skin crawl.

McCoy reached for the intercom on his desk. "McCoy to sickbay."

"Chapel here."

"Come into my office right away. There's been a development."

"Yes, sir. I'll be right in."

The intercom went silent.

And suddenly his arm started to move, his fingers clawed, straight toward his throat. McCoy scrambled to his feet; however, there was absolutely no way to put distance between him and the threat.

He grabbed his wrist and tried to shove it away, but it only slowed the process. In a matter of seconds, his left hand was gripping his throat, strangling him.

"Help!" he tried to scream, but it came out as a miserable gurgle. He fought with the creature desperately, clawing against it, trying to pry it away. His vision blurred, and black spots began to dance before his eyes. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe! Panic ran his skin cold has he struggled against himself.

The door swished open. "Doctor, wha-DOCTOR!"

McCoy was losing consciousness. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't...

He gasped. Air was suddenly available to him. And he gulped it.

"Slow, deep breaths, doctor," a voice soothed.

McCoy opened his eyes and saw Chapel leaning over him.

"It tried to kill me, the creature tried to kill me!" he panted.

Chapel nodded grimly. "I gave it a large dose of sedative. It fell right away."

"We need to tell...Jim." His throat was sore, and his voice hoarse.

"Of course, doctor, but first we need to get you to a biobed. Can you walk?"

McCoy nodded slowly, and Chapel helped him to sit up. He felt dizzy and would teetered backward if the nurse hadn't caught him. McCoy closed his eyes. "I might need a little help though," he rasped.

After having an orderly help her get McCoy into a biobed and strapping his left arm down, Chapel went to the intercom. "Sickbay to Bridge."

"Kirk here."

"Captain, there has been a development in Dr. McCoy's condition," Chapel said criptically. It was not a secret on the ship that McCoy's arm was possessed; however, she didn't want to say the creature had tried to murder its host over the loud speaker.

"I'll be right down. Give me five minutes. Kirk out."

Chapel turned to the doctor, who had closed his eyes again. He was breathing normally now, but he was incredibly pale. It made the bruises coloring on his neck even more prominent.

"What happened in there?" the orderly asked, standing several feet away and staring down at the unusually vulnerable doctor.

"The creature," Chapel said, tearing her eyes away from her commanding officer to look at the young man standing across from her, "it tried to strangle him."

"But why? Doesn't it need McCoy alive to survive?"

Chapel shook her head. "I think it needs him dead."

* * *

_A/N: Suggestions welcome! They're like a vitamin to ward against writer's block :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I am sooo sorry for the unforgivable delay in updating this story. Between school and writer's block, I've been unable to do much. I hope this update doesn't disappoint. I kind of like it, but I would love to read your thoughts. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. I'd love to read them too!_

* * *

McCoy was alone for the first time in 10 hours. Ever since the incident, he'd been under constant supervision. At first, he'd welcomed it, more scared out of his wits than he cared to admit. He did not want to be left unattended with this creature attached at his his shoulder.

However, now that the shock and adrenaline had ebbed, he was grateful for the solitude. His arm was still strapped down, though it hadn't moved since Nurse Chapel gave it that large dose of sedative.

He stared at it now, wondering how on earth he got himself into these dire situations. Well, actually, it wasn't usually _him_ that was in the situation, but someone else that he had to get out.

"It had to happen to me eventually," he sighed, letting his head fall back on his pillow.

_Doctor Leonard McCoy..._

McCoy lifted his head again, glancing around. He hadn't heard anyone come in the room. If someone was calling him over the intercom...

He groaned, reaching over with his right arm and pushing the button. "McCoy here."

No one answered for a moment. _"Yes, doctor? Did you need something?" _Chapel's voice asked.

"I don't need anything," McCoy said as patiently as he could.

_"Then what can I do for you, sir?" _

"Someone called me over the intercom."

Another pause._ "I'm sorry, doctor, but no one called you that I am aware of."_

"I heard them," McCoy insisted.

_"Perhaps it was the Captain, sir. Or Mr. Spock?"_

"It was a woman's voice I heard," McCoy said.

_"It wasn't me, doctor. I'm the only one in Sick Bay at the moment, and I can't imagine anyone else who would call, sir."_

McCoy swallowed, an eerie suspicion creeping over him. "Me neither. Maybe I just thought I heard something."

_"You are very tired, sir. Why don't you try and get some sleep?"_

"Thank you, nurse, I will. McCoy out."

The intercom went quiet, and so did McCoy. He stared at the dim ceiling, waiting, listening. He knew he'd heard that voice...a woman's voice. He'd heard it clear as day.

After several long moments, McCoy whispered, "Who are you?"

_Doctor Leonard McCoy. You speak to me fearfully. Why?_

"Maybe because you tried to strangle me," McCoy suggested dryly, though humor was the furthest thing from his mind. He tried to keep his breathing steady.

_I must apologize, Doctor Leonard McCoy, for my earlier conduct. It was an unethical approach to my predicament._

"You think?" McCoy muttered.

_We own, however, a similar situation, Doctor Leonard McCoy. We are both in want of a body._

"In want of a body!" McCoy cried, "It's my body! I have every right to it."

_Does not age take precedence? I have existed a thousand years before your ancestors were conceived. It is the way of my kind to reincarnate._

"It is the way of your kind to murder innocent forms?" McCoy asked. He stared at his arm, strapped to the bed. It felt strange to be talking to it as though it were a living form, though, in truth, it was.

_We have preexisted with willing participants; however, I took by your actions that you were not interested in such a compromise._

"You might have asked," McCoy said sarcastically.

_Again, I ask that you accept my apologies, Doctor Leonard McCoy._

McCoy grunted. "What if I refuse your 'compromise'?"

_Then, I will be forced to exterminate you and assume your identity. We are wise beings, our kind. We do not merely do away with our host's knowledge, but absorb it. _

"It doesn't bother you that I am male?"

_You refer to my voice. My kind does not recognize sexes. We simply exist. I have adopted the voice of my previous incarnation. A woman by the name of Doctor Grace Fellow. The host body was killed by drowning, and was buried by the path. When the body decomposed, my being was reincarnated as a plant. And for obvious reasons, I searched for another form. _

"Which so happened to be me," McCoy sighed.

_Indeed. I hope now you understand and appreciate my predicament?_

"Understanding something and appreciating it are two different things," McCoy said, "And in no way do I 'appreciate' you trying to steal my body."

_There is no other way for me to survive._

"But couldn't you assume a different form? Or..." McCoy wracked his brain desperately.

_I would happily accept an alternative if it met my criteria._

"I have friends, scientists, who might know of one," McCoy said, "they just need time."

_If I agree not to assume you, will you have the device removed?_

McCoy hesitated. "How long will you give me and my team?"

Seventy-two human hours. Will that suffice?

"Will I be in contact with you?"

_Always. I hear all._

McCoy shuddered. "Then how is it only now I can hear you?"

_Breaching the device was a difficult task, and before, you couldn't hear me. My DNA was too fractured_.

"I will remove the device," McCoy said after a few moments, "but you must agree to stay contained to my...arm."

_Of course, Doctor Leonard McCoy. My kind is not prone to breaking promises._

McCoy swallowed. "I hope not."

* * *

_A/N: Any suggestions would be much appreciated. I think I've gotten in over my head in sci-fi. Yikes! I hope you all enjoyed this update, and I hope to update again WAY sooner than this one._


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